


Candle to Guide Me

by Fiddlerinthewoods



Series: Linked Universe [34]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: 10 000 Year Old Legend, Angst and Feels, Character Study, Guardians - Freeform, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Linktober, Monsters, Songfic, War, i guess, penultimate day!, them spider machines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 06:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21239369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiddlerinthewoods/pseuds/Fiddlerinthewoods
Summary: Linktober Day Thirty: MonsterI'm only a man with a candle to guide me.I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.





	Candle to Guide Me

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Legend of Zelda, 'Monster', or Linked Universe.
> 
> The song is 'Monster' by Imagine Dragons
> 
> Enjoy!

_Ever since I could remember, everything inside of me just wanted to fit in._

_I was never one for pretenders, everything I tried to be just wouldn't settle in._

* * *

Warriors was from a world of war.

There was hardly a day of peace—a day where he wasn’t needed on the battlefield—a day where he didn’t have to worry about his safety and the safety of his troops.

His troops.

His men.

People he fought with, grew close with, helped, and was helped.

People who betrayed him.

These men, these men he thought he knew, betrayed him.

He would never admit it, but there was a hesitation in regards to his trust for others. Even the other Links.

He trusted them with his lives. He knew they were trustworthy.

But his men were trustworthy as well.

No matter how close he was with the others, he built enough walls around him so that he won’t be tricked again.

He will not be played as a fool.

* * *

_If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me?_

_And if I seem dangerous, would you be scared?_

_I get the feeling just because everything I touch isn't dark enough, if this problem lies in me._

* * *

Compared to the others, Warriors had killed the most.

He had seen battles in their Hyrules, how they kill, at most, ten monsters.

Easily, he has killed several thousand in one battle.

He was so paranoid about being ambushed midbattle for, why would only _one _monster be around? There’s always others.

But, in the other Hyrules, they _were _alone.

The others were not used to the fast-paced battle like he was. They couldn’t see a busy battlefield and _instantly _know what to do.

Warriors did.

By this point, it was reflex.

It almost terrified him how quickly he could switch mindsets. One second he could be in his civvy mindset, the next he could be halfway across the battlefield—a plan already in motion.

He never told the others that his world was covered in war.

They didn’t need to know.

All they needed to know was that he was a Captain in the military.

They didn’t need to know that he had never felt more than a week of safety. More than a week of peace.

They didn’t need to know.

* * *

_I'm only a man with a candle to guide me._

_I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me._

* * *

Warriors had made mistakes in his life.

When you live in a world that’s ever changing, mistakes occur.

But he never thought his mistakes would impact the future _so much._

It was his secret.

He never told anyone.

Guardians.

10,000 years ago, Wild said that the Guardians were created to protect the world from Ganon. Wild mentioned about the Hero and the Princess who sealed Ganon away, and created the Guardians and the Divine Beasts.

Warriors almost interrupted Wild, but the man kept speaking.

He mentioned how Guardians were corrupted by Calamity Ganon. How lives were ruined by these machines. How people died from them.

Warriors, ashamed, kept quiet.

He had a troubling thought brewing in his head as Wild spoke. It was only when they were showing their scars did his thought become a realisation.

Time thought Wild’s scars were from Beamos burns.

Warriors knew differently.

Although, no one from his time had those burns—it didn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

There was only _one _creature, he knew of, that could concentrate energy in a strong enough form to make burns in the direct pattern as Wild’s.

Guardians.

The machines that were supposed to destroy Ganon were turned against the people.

If the Hero from the 10,000-year-old legend could see what had become of their creation—then, he’d be distraught.

Ashamed.

Destroyed.

Warriors was.

There was no way he could tell Wild.

He couldn’t tell him that he was responsible for his burns.

For his death.

Wild never told the group that he died, but there was _no way _he could’ve survived a Guardian blast without dying.

And so, it didn’t take Warriors long to realised that the people of the future found the Shrine of Resurrection.

It was his secret.

He was never going to tell Wild.

* * *

_A monster—a monster._

_I've turned into a monster._

_A monster—a monster._

_And it keeps getting stronger._

* * *

They arrived on Wild’s Hyrule in a field littered with Guardians.

It was as if Hylia was laughing down at him.

“Get to cover!” Wild exclaimed as the lasers targeted him, Warriors, and Wind. “There’s a shrine to the west we can get to!”

The group took off running.

Warriors knew that they wouldn’t make it.

He _knew._

He knew how long it took Guardians to power up their lasers. It wasn’t a long time. So, as he heard the final few seconds of powering from the machines, he stepped in front of Wind.

Grabbing his shield, he parried the beams with deadly accuracy.

He didn’t even bat an eye.

It slammed into the respective Guardians, destroying them. The machines fell to the ground as a low yell was heard from behind them.

Glancing back, there was a fading red dome around Wild.

“Thanks, Daruk.” Wild whispered as he stared at Warriors, wide-eyed.

The man from his legend couldn’t look up at him.

“How—how’d you do that?” Wild demanded as Time glanced over the three.

“Is anyone hurt?”

Wind shook his head, a little shocked. “No—no, I’m fine.”

Wild stepped towards Warriors. “How’d you know to parry the beam?”

Warriors looked to the ground.

He could explain who he was.

He _could._

He _should._

But he _can’t._

He can’t do that.

He can’t tell Wild that he knew how to parry a Guardian’s beam because he helped design them.

They’ve been to Wild’s Hyrule _many _times.

It was too late.

It was his secret.

So, Warriors plastered on a fake smile. “We’ve been to your Hyrule enough times,” was his excuse. “Besides, my shield is sturdy. It was mostly dumb luck.”

He could never tell him.

* * *

_Can I clear my conscience if I'm different from the rest?_

_Do I have to run and hide?_

_I never said that I want this. This burden came to me, and it's made its home inside._

* * *

It was clear that Warriors was different than the others.

If not physically, for they were all able-bodied men, than in mind.

He thought differently than them.

Once, they managed to find a chess board with _all _the pieces. At campfire, they held chess tournaments—almost everyone participated, except Legend, who thought it was useless, and Sky, who fell asleep.

It didn’t take long for Warriors to be declared the Chess King.

He wiped the board with everyone.

“It’s just strategy,” he explained. “A dimmed down version of a battlefield.”

And he was used to the battlefield.

Once, they had to complete a puzzle in order to make it through an area. It wasn’t a hard puzzle, just a pattern and word problem.

Warriors nearly short-circuited.

He could only stare at the words, not able to read the Hylian but had the translation.

If anything, this puzzle was simpler than chess. But he wasn’t able to figure it out.

He couldn’t comprehend how to solve the puzzle.

This was to the shock of everyone. Warriors was the Chess King—yet a simple puzzle left him stumped.

In Warriors’ world, you needed to know how to play strategy.

Puzzles were useless.

They didn’t help you defeat your enemies. They may strengthen your mind, but not in the way that was critical for survival on the battlefield.

Chess could save your life, and the life of your men.

Puzzles could kill your entire troop.

* * *

_If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me?_

_And if I seem dangerous, would you be scared?_

_I get the feeling just because everything I touch isn't dark enough, if this problem lies in me._

* * *

Wild never stopped hammering him for his knowledge on Guardians.

He was smart, he _knew _there was something Warriors wasn’t telling the group.

Ever since the run in with the Guardian, he had been distant—still prideful and egotistical, but distant.

There was _no way _that Warriors just got a lucky shot at parrying a beam.

The first time Wild tried parrying, he nearly died.

Too be fair, it was a Scout Guardian. So, it didn’t do much damage—but Warriors parried a _Stalker._

Those monsters have health up to 1500.

And parrying was hard.

It required precise timing and hand-eye coordination. If you were a second late, your shield was destroyed; if you were a second early, you were struck.

Parrying, although can destroy Guardians in one-hit, left you open to a full-on Guardian beam.

Wild was so shocked by Warriors’ proper parrying that he missed his.

Thank _Din _for Daruk’s Protection.

He highly doubted any Fairy could bring him back from a dead-on Guardian hit—nor Hyrule’s Life spell.

The Shrine of Resurrection could—but no one knew where it was, and he didn’t want to sleep for another hundred years.

When Wild asked Warriors about the parrying, Warriors would tell him that “It was full on luck.” and then change the subject.

Warriors would never tell Wild the truth.

It wasn’t because of the fear of rejection from the group for this secret.

It was the hatred Wild could have for him.

Warriors helped design the monsters that killed him.

Who would want to spend time with the person who made their murder weapon?

* * *

_I'm only a man with a candle to guide me._

_I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me._

* * *

As much as Warriors’ tried, he couldn’t escape his past.

He couldn’t escape his fear or paranoia.

So, against his own wishes, he kept a journal documenting everyone.

Including himself.

This was dangerous. Someone could find his book and read it—read what was written.

Though, the only person able to would be Wind.

They had the same Hylian.

So, he wrote it in a language no one would recognise.

The language of the Sheikah.

When the Guardians and Divine Beasts were being built, he learnt the language. He worked closely with the Sheikah people, and it would’ve been best if he could read what they wrote about the machines.

His Sheikah wasn’t the best—for every Sheikah word he forgot, he just replaced with the Hylian equivalent.

He wrote how to take down everyone in the group.

Their weaknesses, whether physical or emotional.

He wrote about his own weaknesses—this time, in his Hylian. What use would the information be if no one could read it? He knew that Sheikah still existed in Wild’s Hyrule, but he doubted the man could read it.

His penultimate entry was on Wind.

After he finished his notes, he ripped the pages out.

He couldn’t write how to defeat a boy.

He couldn’t.

So, he tore the pages up and threw them into the fire when it was his turn for watch.

Wind, he knew, would never betray them.

Unknown to everyone, he _knew _Wind. Knew the future version of him.

Or, knew _stories _of him.

Not stories of the Hero of the Wind, though he heard those too, but stories of _him, _Link.

The man Warriors was named after.

Technically, he was named after his father, Link Jr.

Warriors was Link the third.

But his father was named after his grandfather, Link.

The pirate of the Great Sea, before the water levels fixed and the world stopped being flooded.

The pirate of the Great Sea, the boy from Outset Island, the Hero of the Wind, Link, Grandfather…

There were many titles Wind was called in Warriors’ time.

* * *

_A monster—a monster._

_I've turned into a monster._

_A monster—a monster._

_And it keeps getting stronger._

* * *

Sometimes, it would seem as if the world hated him.

He would be trapped in the memories of war, of fighting, of losing those close to him, of how his happiness doomed his world to war against… Cia, how her happiness was crushed by him.

Those days, he was distant. Although, he plastered on a fake smile and pretended like everything was well.

He had learnt how to keep morale up even when he knew the inevitable would be upon him.

Once the Captain panics, the entire troop falters.

Although, the others never pried him for information, they knew something was wrong with Warriors.

It took sometime before the others came up with some ideas to help him.

Everyone had their stories, their history, and their bad days.

Sometimes, all it took was knowing that you were not alone.

So, that was exactly what Wind would do.

At campfire, he would get the others up and do what he would do on Tetra’s pirate ship with the pirates.

They would put on productions.

Of course, Wind wouldn’t have the group act out court cases—as fun as those are—but he did do some of the other productions.

They would tell stories.

He would tell stories of the monsters he fought on the Great Sea, of some of the shenanigans some of the pirates got up too on the ship.

The others would chime in with some funny stories of their adventures as well, but Wind’s stories seemed to lift Warrior’s spirits the most.

So, if Wind had to keep telling stories for the rest of his life in order to cheer up the man who had protected him many times, then he would.

Whenever Wind told a story to Warriors, he felt happy.

But sad.

Happy that he could hear the stories told through his childhood, but sad because memories of his Grandfather flooded his mind.

Of their relationship, and of his death.

It was a bittersweet time.

Sometimes, Warriors didn’t know why the group tried with their productions.

He had been keeping so many secrets from them.

They didn’t know that he kept notes on them, observed them, and was constantly checking if anything changed.

They didn’t know that he was the reason for Wild’s scars.

They didn’t know that the only thing he knew was war and battlefield.

They didn’t know that Warriors had a fear of himself—of what his battles and lack of trust could turn him into.

Wind didn’t know that he… that Warriors was his grandson.

Their productions would cheer him up, they would lighten his day, until he remembered the very real fear of the possibility of him losing all empathy.

War changes people.

Eventually, you can stop caring about others—and only focus on yourself.

And Warriors… Warriors had seen enough war and battles to see the outcomes.

Selfishness, apathy, murder.

These people…

They lose their humanity.

They lose their compassion.

They lose what makes them a community.

Warriors never had a moment of peace from the realisation that he could be like those people.

A monster.

* * *

_I'm only a man with a candle to guide me._

_I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me. _

_A monster—a monster._

_I've turned into a monster._

_A monster—a monster._

_And it keeps getting stronger._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
